The Song of Winter
by gothicorca1895
Summary: Companion to my current series. At the Winter Feast, Shen can't think of a good story...so, what else, he makes one up. KFP retelling of "A Christmas Carol." Includes OCs.
1. Shen begins a story

_A/N - All right, before I say anything else, I'm going to come right out and declare it: if you are not familiar with my other fanfictions (Long Shot/Keeping a Secret/A Great Escape) this story will probably confuse you. It has OCs and reformed!Shen and people who are alive even though the canon says they're dead and all that other good stuff. So if you're unfamiliar with me but you don't mind not knowing a few things, feel free to keep reading..._

_Anyway, I took a break from A Great Escape so that I can work on this, my holiday story. Not Christmas story; I've seen a ton of Kung Fu Panda Christmas fics, but the canon says that they don't celebrate Christmas, they celebrate the Winter Feast or whatever it's technically called, so eh. Mostly, this story is a retelling of "A Christmas Carol" with Lord Shen as Scrooge and other characters as...some other people. (It's a surprise!) This is set after A Great Escape, so there may be some spoilers but probably not._

_Enjoy and review and stuff._

* * *

**The Song of Winter**

_Part I: Shen begins a story_

Once upon a time, the annual Winter Feast at the Jade Palace had been an elegant, traditional affair, as unchanging and stodgy as many of the old kung fu masters who attended it. But several years ago, the Dragon Warrior had changed all that, altering the traditions to reflect the warm family atmosphere that he was accustomed to during the holidays. After a little experimentation to see what felt right, it was decided that each year, the Winter Feast would now be a relatively informal gathering of the kung fu masters and any family members they wanted to bring with them. It was also open to any villagers from the Valley of Peace who wanted to attend…so it was really no surprise that the Winter Feast was a usually large, sometimes chaotic, and always enjoyable event.

It was especially so this year, Shen thought fondly as he looked around the dining hall of the Jade Palace. Dinner was over, and while servants cleared the many large tables spread about the decorated room, masters and commoners mingled and exchanged pleasantries and stories. Shen had been to this celebration for a few years now, but it seemed that every year, his peculiar mixed-up family got bigger. Last year, Lady Biming and Xun had been the new additions. This year, he had been gifted with the companionship of the peahen who now stood beside him, her wing threaded through his.

"Are you enjoying the feast, Lanying?" he asked with a smile.

"Oh, yes, it's quite fun," she replied, smiling back at him a bit nervously. She didn't say so, but this was probably one of the first times she'd attended such an event. Lanying hailed from Gongmen City, where her frequent panic attacks had classified her as a cripple and caused her parents to keep her more or less shut up in her room. She'd only been able to prove herself competent after becoming engaged to Shen and moving to the Valley of Peace, where she'd lived for less than a month now.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Oh, and I'm sorry that you had to invite my parents…I know how they are." She rolled her eyes

"It's no trouble at all," he answered, not wanting to admit that he found his soon-to-be-in-laws ungodly irritating. He leaned towards her and lowered his voice to a mock whisper. "I have a present for you."

"A present?" She smirked. "A real present, or…something else?"

His wings slipped around her waist. "Both."

Lanying giggled a bit, arching her long neck towards him. Her beak parted slightly, and just as Shen prepared to receive the kiss…

"Hey, ugly chicken!"

He felt a sharp yank on his robes and stumbled back a few steps, releasing his grip on the now-startled Lanying. Kurisu had appeared next to him, scowling and tugging on his silk dress clothes. "Shen, you promised last year that you'd tell a story at the Winter Feast this year!" she declared somewhat unhappily. "And everyone's getting ready to tell stories now, and you're over here smooching with her!"

Shen sighed. He knew that ever since he'd brought his fiancée back home with him, Kurisu had been rather hurt that he didn't have nearly as much time for her anymore. The kitten always refused to speak to Lanying or even say the peahen's name, always referring to her as just 'her' or 'she.' Even though he wanted to spend a bit of time with his future wife during the holiday, he didn't want his itty bitty kitty to keep feeling left out…and a promise was a promise.

"You don't mind if I go over there, do you, Lanying?" he asked, smiling in resignation even though his crest had flattened a bit. "I did promise her…"

"You're going to tell a story?" Lanying laughed. "This I have to hear."

Shen scooped Kurisu into his arms and headed back towards the cluster of tables. Kurisu wrinkled her nose a bit when she saw Lanying following them, but overall she looked rather triumphant and smug that Shen was finally paying attention to her. He carried her over to where a cluster of guests had gathered to exchange stories, some real, some fictitious, and some simply embellished; at the moment, Master Storming Ox was relaying a spine-tingling account of his encounter with some bandits, which was particularly entertaining to the children seated in excited bunches on the floor.

"…and I took my trusty axe and swung it at the crocodile, and he flew backwards into the wall, knocked out cold! We won the battle, and he and the rest of his gang were all sent to prison." The children cheered at this happy ending to the tale, while the adults applauded politely. Storming Ox bowed. "Thank you, thank you. Now, who wants to go next?"

"Shen does!" announced Kurisu. She looked at the peacock meaningfully. "I bet he has a real good story to tell, riiiiight, Shen?"

"Of course I do," Shen assured her, even though at that very moment he was wondering what exactly he was going to say. He seated himself on the table so that everyone could see him, positioning Kurisu in his lap. It seemed that everyone he knew had wandered over to hear the stories being told; he saw Po, Master Shifu, the Furious Five, Xun, Lady Biming, Mr. Ping, the soothsayer, and many more…all of them looking at him curiously, wondering what he was going to do.

It wasn't as if the past year had been devoid of interesting events for him, far from it. He'd had many exciting experiences, such as having multiple panic attacks, getting engaged, starting his career as a defense contractor, and nearly being assassinated by a spiteful adversary. Yet none of those were exactly brimming with holiday cheer. He found his thoughts turning to an old folk tale he'd heard during his travels. Surely if he just changed a few things around, no one would mind…

"My story is about a cruel villain and how he learned to reform," Shen announced.

"Oh really?" called Master Croc from the back.

"Is this your accurate, nonfiction account?" quipped Xun.

"Not exactly." Shen settled in and cleared his throat. "Once upon a time, there was an albino peacock named Sheng Li, who was a wealthy businessman."

"A businessman?" snorted Po.

"What exactly was his business?" asked Lady Biming.

"He was a defense contractor," answered Shen without missing a beat.

Master Storming Ox arched an eyebrow. "And however did he get that job?"

"Funny you should ask that." Shen gave a slight, embarrassed smile. "He was always good with fireworks and gunpowder and cannons and such, but he, uh, knew these two kung fu masters who set him up as a contractor, because clearly that was a more intelligent line of work than trying to take over China or any stupid thing like that."

This drew reserved chuckles from his audience, particularly from Masters Storming Ox and Croc. Indeed, they'd been the first ones to give him a chance to test his defense expertise. They had also recommended him to other city leaders they knew, and Shen had found that contracts were now rolling in. He straightened up and continued:

"Despite the help of these two kung fu masters – which he was very grateful for, by the way – Sheng Li, or Shen, cared more about money than he did any person in the world. He was a cruel, heartless miser who, although he was quite rich, never spent a penny more than he had to. He barely paid his employees, and his clients always found that he charged exorbitant amounts of money for his services. Everyone in the Valley of Peace knew that his heart was as cold and black as a piece of coal…"


	2. The miser himself

_A/N - And now a few review replies..._

_eld mcm: If you're the person who suggested this crossover in the reviews to A Great Escape, then yes, I did get the idea from you. I didn't mention that because I didn't know who you were, since you don't have an account._

_UnderXxDog: Oh, I haven't given up on A Great Escape, promise. I'm just taking a month-long break from that story so that I can write this holiday fic._

_Bijou Blanche: There are two things that I ask of people who want to critique/point out the flaws in my stories. The first thing is that they read ALL of my stories, as they are all intertwined, and the second is that they write their review constructively. You have done neither of these things, and you also need to learn how to type in coherent English, because I can barely understand you. As a result, I'm going to have to politely ask you to stop reviewing my stories. If you think they're that bad, then don't read them...or do read them and make incoherent complaints without reviewing, I don't care. Either way, don't review unless you've read everything and can actually put together a constructive critique._

* * *

**The Song of Winter**

_Part II: The miser himself_

"_Sheng Li, or Shen, cared more about money than he did any person in the world. He was a cruel, heartless miser who, although he was quite rich, never spent a penny more than he had to. He barely paid his employees, and his clients always found that he charged exorbitant amounts of money for his services. Everyone in the Valley of Peace knew that his heart was as cold and black as a piece of coal…"_

…

A gentle winter snow was spinning down over the Valley of Peace, lightly dusting every building and street with white powder. Children ran out of their homes to play in the flurries, while parents ran after them, shouting and trying to wrap heavier clothes around their squirming offspring. Cheerful villagers stopped on seemingly every corner to chat, and one topic of conversation came up much more than any other: "The holiday is tomorrow!" "Tomorrow is the Winter Feast!" "What are your plans?" "Whose house are you going to?" "What are you cooking tomorrow night?"

And then, breaking up the festivities and good cheer, a slender figure wearing a long dark robe pushed and glared his way through the village. Nearly everyone stopped on their tracks or scampered away upon seeing his bitter gaze. No one really knew him, but everyone seemed to know enough about him; they knew that he was infamous for being heartless and miserly and morally bankrupt, as well as the richest man in town. He was Sheng Li, more commonly known as Shen, a wealthy albino peacock who worked as a defense contractor…and didn't seem to like anyone or anything.

Shen rolled his eyes at the ridiculous behavior of the townspeople as he headed to work. The frivolities that people became obsessed with at this time of year had always irritated him. He knew that many people in the Valley of Peace were poor, dirt-poor, so why did they bother to spend their hard-earned money on decorations and gifts, or waste a day not working and not being paid, when they already had so little? He had worked for his entire life to get to the point that he was at today, and there was no way that he was going to squander away any of his time or money during a stupid holiday.

He reached his shop, which had a sign above the door spelling out two names. One of these names was scratched out, and Shen recalled with something akin to fondness that old business partner had been dead for exactly seven years today. "Ah, he was a good one," he sighed to himself. "He robbed the widows and swindled the poor." With that, he let himself in, triggering a tinkling bell mounted in the doorframe.

His sole employee and bookkeeper, Mr. Ping, was already inside. Before Shen had the chance to register the satisfaction that at least his lackey had the decency to get to work early, he saw that the old goose was fumbling around in the bucket of coal next to the furnace. "Ping!" he barked out sharply.

Mr. Ping released a startled squawk. The piece of coal he had been gripping flew from his wing and skidded across the grimy wooden floor, coming to a rest at Shen's talons. The peacock picked it up, wrinkling his beak slightly at the feel of the dry black dust, and narrowed his eyes at his bookkeeper accusingly.

"Oh – s-sir!" Mr. Ping stammered. "I was just trying to, um…thaw out the ink!" For emphasis, he held up the ink bottle from his desk.

Shen snatched the bottle away. It was cold to the touch, and there was frost around its edges, but it certainly wasn't frozen. "Ping, I won't have you wasting my coal like this!" he snapped. "You used a piece last week! Now, get on with your work!" With that, he scooped up the offending rock and tossed it back into the bucket.

"Yes, sir." Mr. Ping glumly trudged over to his writing disk and sat down, but he looked back towards his boss with a nervous hopefulness in his eyes. "And, um, speaking of work, sir…tomorrow is the holiday and I was wondering if, perhaps…I could have the day off?"

Shen couldn't repress a slight noise of disgust at this request, but he grudgingly replied. "Well, I suppose so. But I'll dock you the day's pay!"

"Oh, thank you, sir!" Mr. Ping obediently bent over his first scroll of the day in order to hide the smile on his beak.

Meanwhile, Shen retreated to the back room, where his own desk was. The furnishings here were much more elaborate, but it was no less dark or dusty than the rest of the shop. His business place seemed to be in a state of perpetual gloom, very much matching the attitude of its owner. He sank into his chair, smiling greedily as he began sorting through the stacks of yuan piled high and marking down clients for overdue payments.

"Let's see…" He mused aloud. "Quianfan Village ordered two cannons, but later commissioned three, so that's an extra payment, plus a fee for inconvenience…and another fee for being late with their second expenditure." He cackled to himself. "Ah, isn't it wonderful to have money…"

The bell over the door clanked, and Shen looked up eagerly, anticipating the arrival of a customer. At first, he was puzzled, as all he saw was an open door with no one there. But then he heard a voice cheerfully call out, "Happy feast, everyone!" and groaned.

"Oh, Master Mantis!" Mr. Ping smiled and looked up from his scroll. "How nice to see you! What brings you here today?"

"I'm here to speak to Shen," answered Mantis, pointedly glancing at the door to the backroom.

Shen sighed roughly as he stomped out to meet them. "You'd better make this quick. I'm in a hurry."

Mantis cleared his throat. "Master Shen, since you are also a kung fu master – even though you never want to admit it – you're invited to the annual Winter Feast with all the rest of the masters tomorrow. Mr. Ping has graciously agreed to hold the feast at his house, so…"

"Are you daft?" snapped Shen. "Since when have I ever attended any of your Winter Feasts?"

"Well, never, but I still thought I'd give it a – "

"How many times do I have to tell you, I don't celebrate that ridiculous holiday! The Winter Feast is nothing but a bunch of frivolous, wasteful nonsense! Tomorrow is just another work day, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool!"

With that, he whirled around and retreated into the privacy of the backroom, making sure to slam the door behind him. Mr. Ping and Mantis exchanged a puzzled look.

"Well, I don't care what he says!" declared Mantis after a moment of silence. "Tomorrow is a day of celebration. I'll see you at the feast, Mr. Ping!"

"Have a good holiday!" Mr. Ping responded as the praying mantis hopped away, before returning to his work.

"Ah, all of the masters are so kind," the old goose sighed.

"They always were a little odd," Shen mumbled to himself. "But what do I care about that? Humbug."

Not two minutes later, the doorbell clanked again. He exhaled harshly and tore back into the front room. "I thought I told you to – " Upon seeing two unfamiliar figures brushing snow from their clothes by the door, he cut himself off and cleared his throat. "Oh, customers! What can I do for you two gentlemen?"

The first visitor, a sheep, straightened his scarf. "Sir, we are soliciting funds for the impoverished and destitute…"

Shen arched an eyebrow. "Pardon me?"

"We're collecting for the poor," explained the second guest, a pig, holding up a collecting tin to emphasize his words.

"Oh…" Shen's hope of negotiating a new contract vanished, leaving an unimpressed expression on his face. "Well, gentlemen, let me ask you something. Do you think I pay taxes?"

"Er…" The sheep was rather taken off-guard by the unusual question. "Well, yes, I suppose so…"

"And doesn't a portion of my taxes go towards maintaining the prisons and poorhouses?"

"The prisons and poorhouses!" exclaimed the pig. "But, sir, many people would rather die than go there!"

"Well then, they had better do it quickly and get rid of the surplus population!" And with that, Shen opened the front door and motioned them out with a flourishing gesture. The rather stunned sheep and pig wordlessly trundled back out into the snow.

Shen sighed dramatically. "Ping, what's the world coming to?" he said out loud, not really speaking to his employee but addressing him nonetheless. "You work all your life to get money, and then people try to make you give it away!"

…

"_I have a question!" interjected a voice, and Shen started with surprised. He had gotten rather absorbed in his storytelling, and none of his audience had spoken so far. Now he saw that Mr. Ping had pushed his way to the front of the group of listeners._

"_Why did you turn me into your employee?" he demanded. "I've never worked for you, and I would never leave my noodle shop!"_

"_Relax. It's only a story." Shen smirked a bit as he gazed around at his makeshift family. "Although I daresay that many of you will be getting a part in it…"_


	3. Familiar face

**The Song of Winter**

_Part III: Familiar face_

That evening, Shen trudged home through the quickly mounting snowdrifts. It was already quite dark outside, and deathly silent. No one was out on the streets, as all of the villagers seemed to have shut themselves into their homes, hoarding warmth and eagerly awaiting the holiday that morning would bring.

Shen's house was on the outskirts of town. It was a large, rambling, yet ill-maintained manor that was much too big for the lone miser who inhabited it. Yet he coveted that house as much as he did his money, and he did about as much with it. After walking in the bitterly cold wind, seeing his front door was an utter relief…but he couldn't help but hesitate when he finally reached it, squinting in confusion at the door knocker. His gold-cast lion's head knocker looked different. In fact, it looked more like the head of a wolf.

But then the wind sliced through his cloak again, and he grumbled something incoherent and entered his home. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him in the darkness, that was all.

It had been a long, tiring day of annoyances, and Shen was looking forward to going up to his bedchamber, starting a warm fire, and reading for a little while before retreating to bed. It would be a nice way to unwind, with no kung fu masters coming in to try and force him to celebrate the holiday and no beggars trying to get him to donate his money. He started up the stairs, but found that his progress was delayed further; several times during his ascent, he was _certain_ that he sensed someone following him, almost positive that a slinking shadow that was not his own was crawling up the wall. And he'd turn around and look, and invariably see no one there.

What in the gods' name was wrong with him? He'd lived in this house alone for years, and he'd never once had to deal with an irrational fear that someone had followed him in off the street and was stalking him! Or perhaps it wasn't a person at all…perhaps it was a ghost. His beak twitched in amusement at the ridiculousness of that thought.

At last he got to his bedroom, where he started a fire and changed into his sleeping robe. He grabbed a history scroll and settled down into his favorite cushioned chair to read. But no sooner had he gotten past the first sentence then the fire, without warning, hissed and fizzled out in an instant.

Shen sat there in the darkness, gripping his scroll in puzzled fear. There hadn't even been a draft to put out that fire! Of course, it would be a simple matter to get up and restart it, but he really had the heebie-jeebies now. He knew for certain now: he was not alone in the house.

His worst fears were confirmed when he heard a low voice moan, "_Shen_…"

Shen cried out, starting with such shock that he nearly toppled out of his chair. "Wh-who's there?" he demanded shakily, reaching towards a fireplace poker with one trembling wing (and coming up short by several inches). "Sh-sh-show yourself this instant, I-I'm warning you!"

There were several long moments of silence, and he began to wonder if he had ever heard anything at all. But then a glow began emanating from the direction of the fireplace. This was not the warm, orange-gold glow of a domestic fire, however, but a pale silvery light with no identifiable source. His horrified eyes were frozen on the light as it became less and less vague, solidifying into the form of…

…his dead business partner, Xun.

…

"_Aww, man!" complained Xun, his ears folding back in annoyance. His objection was nearly completely covered up by laughter, but Shen heard him nonetheless. "Why do I have to be dead?"_

"_Sorry, sorry!" Shen rolled his eyes. "You were the first person to come to mind! As a business partner, I mean, not as a dead person."_

"_I think that the casting is perfect," quipped the soothsayer, leaning on her cane as her shoulders shook with silent chuckles. "Please continue, Shen."_

"_Yes, please do!" Kurisu looked up at him from his lap with bright and eager eyes. "I'm just _dying_ to know what happens next."_

…

Shen could only stare in mortification. Yes, the seven-years-deceased Xun was in front of him – wispy and ethereal, but unmistakable nonetheless. The apparition had Xun's face, Xun's body, and wore Xun's usual attire, but with one major difference. This Xun was draped in chains. Long, swaying metal chains bound his shoulders, chest, and waist, pooling around his feet where they ended in weights. When Shen looked closer, he could see that these weights were actually ornate statues and ornaments, the sort of decorations that rich people would have on display in their homes.

It was all so surreal. Surely this wasn't really happening to him. Surely he was just caught up in the midst of a fever dream, or was suffering from a hallucination brought on by bad food. There was no way that he could be looking at the ghost of Xun.

The translucent wolf finally spoke up, in his dead partner's voice. "Shen," he said. "I have returned."

"No!" In a fit of blind terror, Shen hurled the scroll in his hand at the ghost with as much accuracy as he could muster. It hit Xun squarely in the center of the forehead…or at least it would have, if Xun had been solid. Instead, it passed directly through the wolf and crashed against the far wall.

Shen cowered into the chair. Yes, he was a kung fu master. Yes, he could fight. But he couldn't possibly fight against what he couldn't even touch.

Xun took a step forward, and the chains draped around him clanked with a hollow sound that seemed to echo throughout the heavens and back. Shen tried to make himself invisible, his magnificent tail feathers quivering.

"What do you want with me?" he cried. "Are you going to haunt me? Take revenge on me? I never wronged you in life, and I had nothing to do with your death!"

"Wha – ? No!" Xun rolled his eyes a bit in disgust and shuffled forward. "I'm here to set the stage and be all dramatic and stuff. Though it's good to see that you remember me."

"Of course I remember you!" Shen peeked out a bit, slightly reassured. "We worked together for years!" He leaned forward. "Xun…is that really you?"

"Well, who else could it be, huh? But that's beside the point!" Xun drew himself upwards, trying to sound thunderous and imposing. "Shen, do you remember when I was alive, how I robbed the widows and swindled the poor?"

"Yes, and all in the same day!" Shen looked at his deceased friend with awe, tinted by admiration. "Oh, you had class, Xun…"

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" smirked Xun, before snapping himself out of his self-assurance. He shook his head vigorously. "I mean, no! Wrong! I was wrong to do what I did, Shen. And because of it, I'm forced to carry around these chains for all eternity!" He rattled his bonds for emphasis.

Shen looked doubtfully at the chains. "So…how does that relate to why you're here?"

"Because if you don't shape up and change right now, then your chains will be heavier than mine!" Xun hoisted up a length of chain and hurled it around Shen's neck. Shen expected that it go straight through him, as the scroll had gone through Xun before, but instead he felt a horrible choking weight embrace his throat. It only lasted a moment before it was gone – but that moment was enough to fill him with unbridled horror and agony.

"No, no!" he exclaimed. "That can't happen! It mustn't!" He clasped his hands, gazing up at Xun pleadingly. "Tell me, Xun…what do I need to do?"

"Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits," announced Xun spookily. "Listen to them, and do whatever they say, or else you'll end up like me!"

There was a flash and a bang, and then he had vanished from the room. Shen blinked as the fire started up again of its own accord. "Wait!" he called out. "What about these three spirits?"

But it was no use. He was alone in the room once again.


	4. The first spirit

**The Song of Winter**

_Part IV: The first spirit_

A short while later, Shen found himself very worn out and decided to get to bed. He doused the fire and caught himself nervously checking for lurking shadows in the corners of his room. He shook his head, trying to raise himself out of this fearful stupor. "Spirits. What humbug," he muttered to himself, and slipped beneath the blankets on his bed mat.

He wasn't sure how much time passed – maybe an hour, maybe two – before he was awakened by a strange, bright light.

Shen stirred in bed, his sleepy eyes squinting at a sort of glowing ball that seemed to be hovering above him. The golden light was blinding at first, but then it seemed to dim, revealing the form of…

…

"_Of…mmm…Nana!" Shen decided, pointing at the soothsayer._

_His audience burst into appreciative laughter, while the soothsayer looked rather indignant. "Me? Why me?" she demanded._

"_Why not? You know a lot about the past and how it relates to the future, don't you? Yes, I think you'll be just perfect for the first ghost…"_

…

Shen sat up. Standing over him was the figure of an old goat draped in many layers of robes, carrying a carved wooden walking stick. The stick was unadorned but for one unusual ornament – a rosy-colored flame hovered above it, turning it into a torch without ever actually touching the wood. The goat looked at him somberly.

"Wh-who are you?" he whispered.

"I am the Ghost of Winter Past," she answered.

"Ghost?" He inhaled sharply. "The first spirit…"

"Come with me." She extended her hoof to him expectantly. "It is time for us to go."

"Go? Go where?"

"Why, we're going to visit your past, of course."

Shen was almost entirely sure that this had to be a dream, so he placed his wing on her hoof tentatively. Immediately, a bizarre rushing sensation began to course through his body, and the room disappeared into a mass of colors running by. He tried to gasp, but the air was shoved back into his throat. It was several seconds before he completely realized what was happening.

"We – we're flying!" he cried out as best he could.

The spirit smirked. "Why yes, I suppose we are. You're a peacock, so I thought you'd be used to flying."

"Well, yes, but this isn't exactly the type of flight I'm accustomed to!" It was more like their surroundings were moving, whizzing by them at impossible speeds and making their clothing snap like flags in a high wind, while they themselves were perfectly stationary in midair. It was hard to pick out anything around them, but when he gaped down at the world below him, he was fairly sure that they were zooming above and out of the Valley of Peace.

As they drew closer and closer to the horizon, he realized that they were approaching a magnificent glow that looked like the coming of daybreak itself. "What is that?" he asked, almost to himself. "It can't be sunrise already."

"That's your past," explained the spirit.

At her words, the two of them seemed to pick up even more speed (if that was even possible), and the bright light enveloped them. He winced at its intensity, raising a wing to block the glare from his eyes. When the harsh radiance subsided, he warily opened one eye a slit…and gasped when he saw his new location.

"Why, this is Gongmen City!" he exclaimed. "I grew up here!"

He stepped forward cautiously, his movements cautious and dreamlike. The landscape of his old home city was perfect down to every detail. He recognized buildings that in reality were derelict and businesses that he knew had closed their doors years ago. This really was his past.

"Do you recognize that building?" asked the spirit, pointing to a sturdy structure that resembled a large house.

"Hmm?" Shen was jolted out of his reverie, and his head snapped towards the building in question. "Oh, that's my old school!"

Just then, the doors of the school burst open, allowing a tide of excited children to flood the street. They were laughing and jostling each other, calling out, "Happy feast! Have a good holiday!" as they separated and headed for home. He was surprised to find that, although the cheering young crowd passed right by him, not one child gave him a second or even a first glance.

"Don't they see me?" he asked.

"No," replied the spirit, peering at the children wistfully over the top of her walking stick. "They are but shades of the past. These are your memories – they cannot be changed."

The last of the schoolchildren vanished into the city, and he realized that every doorway was framed by hanging sun lanterns, decorated for the upcoming holiday. The spirit continued, "Those little ones are going home to spend time with their families during the winter feast…but not everyone has left the school yet."

She started for the steps, motioning for him to follow her. Shen trailed behind her wordlessly, his train making a _shh-shh_ sound as it dragged on the snowy ground behind him.

The two of them passed through the still-open doors. Inside the one-room schoolhouse, not even a teacher remained. No, there was no one there…except for a little boy seated at the center desk in the front row, frantically scribbling away on a scroll spread out in front of him. His tiny gray beak, crimson irises, and white feathers made him unmistakable.

"…it's me," murmured Shen.

The spirit didn't say anything.

The young Shen was sketching feverishly on his scroll, creating a familiar design. It was a crudely drawn cannon, foreshadowing the trade that this peachick would pursue later in life. He was fully absorbed in his work when a high-pitched voice called out, "Hey, Shen!"

A scruffy wolf cub scampered into the room, and the older Shen's heart twisted when he recognized this newcomer as Xun. "Shen!" the young Xun repeated. "What are you doing in here all by yourself? You've gotta come play in the snow with the rest of us!"

"I don't wanna play," little Shen responded sourly. "I'm busy working."

"Working? But it's the holiday tomorrow!" little Xun persisted. "You need to take a break, you know…"

"Just leave me alone, okay!" snapped little Shen.

Little Xun's ears and tail drooped, and he shuffled out of the schoolhouse sadly.

The spirit tilted her head at Shen expectantly. "Now, why on earth would you treat your only friend that way?"

Shen opened his beak to respond, before demanding suspiciously, "How did you know that he was my only friend?"

"I know everything about your past. For example, I know that you and Xun grew up side by side in an orphanage. While Xun went out and played with the other children, you were diligently focusing on your studies. Eventually, he would forgo his socializing to become your business partner."

He was silent for a moment. "I never liked the holidays," he finally said. "The other children at school would rush home to celebrate with their families, but I had no family. To me, the whole event just seemed like a waste of time."

…

_At this point, the soothsayer quirked an eyebrow at him and said, "Sheng Li, you did not grow up in an orphanage and you know it."_

"_I didn't grow up in an orphanage, either," added Xun. "That is total bullsh – "_

"_I know, I know," interjected Shen. "But remember, this isn't what actually happened to anyone. It's a story – it's not supposed to be like real life."_

…

"Whatever the reason for your actions," said the spirit, "you continued to work hard, for better or for worse. And I suppose your work paid off, because once you left school, you found a job as the bookkeeper of a medicine shop."

As she spoke, the interior of the schoolhouse melted away, revealing a much larger space that seemed to have been hiding behind it. It was the aforementioned medicine shop, with its rows of shelves stocked with all sorts of bottles and herbs and potions. The floor displays had been cleared away, however, making room for tables of refreshments and a dozen or so dancing couples…because it seemed to be the time of a winter party that Shen very well recognized.

"I remember this place, too!" he exclaimed. "This store was owned by the kindest employer I ever worked for…Lady Biming."

…

"_Really, Shen?" Lady Biming rolled her eyes._

"_Oh, come on, it's a compliment! Just enjoy your cameo."_

…

Lady Biming was in the center of the shop, cheerfully serving refreshments and wishing all of her guests a happy feast. As Shen and the spirit watched, someone shouldered their way through the dancers and hurried up to her. It was a very familiar albino peacock; his tail feathers had not grown to be as long as they would eventually get, and he was still a bit gangly with youth, but it was more than obvious that they were looking at another young Shen.

Lady Biming smiled at her bookkeeper. "Oh, hello, dear. What's wrong? You look urgent."

"Ma'am, do you have any idea how much this party is costing the store?" The young Shen's eyebrows were creased with worry, and he held up a scroll to her. "I was just going over the numbers in the back room, and…"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Shen." Lady Biming gently pried the scroll away from. "It's the holiday! It's my pleasure to set up this party for everyone, and you need to go out and have a bit of fun."

"But I…"

"No buts!" She gently nudged him out onto the dance floor. "I think I see a young lady waiting for a partner out there. Why don't you go talk to her?"

"And the young lady was indeed waiting for a partner," said the spirit in the older Shen's ear. "Do you recognize her, Shen?"

She pointed a hoof towards the other end of the room, and Shen's breath caught. Sitting in a chair by herself was a colorful young peahen wearing a beautiful holiday gown. "Why, that's lovely Lanying," he murmured breathlessly, and the next two words seemed to sting him as they were spoken: "My fiancée."

…

"_Are you kidding me, Shen?" Lanying looked up at him pointedly. "Are you seriously doing this?"_

"_There's no one better suited to the role, beautiful," he responded in as charming a voice as he could manage._

_In his lap, he heard Kurisu growl softly._

…

The young Shen was clearly very nervous about asking Lanying for a dance. It was obvious that he had been cultivating a crush on her for quite some time. Fortunately, she turned out to be a bit more proactive than he was. She rose from her chair and flounced over to him. "Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, not directly addressing him but being just loud enough for him to hear. "No one will ask me to dance with them!"

"Well…" Young Shen turned to her, giving her a bashful, sidelong glance. "I'd love to have you as a partner, if you wouldn't mind…"

She smiled. "Of course I wouldn't," she said, and slipped her wings around his neck. Young Shen likewise gently gripped her waist, and the two of them disappeared into the swirling mass of couples.

Watching from across the room, Shen sighed. "I remember how much I was in love with her…"

"But in a few years' time, you had learned to love something else," the spirit stated as the medicine shop melted away. The decorations vanished; the cheery music stopped; and a gust of cold air wrapped itself around Shen's shoulders, making him shiver. This time, they rematerialized outside of a dark, dreary building in the Valley of Peace, on a gloomy and snowy night. "It's my storefront," he noted. "But…what are we doing here?"

The spirit didn't answer him, but soon enough, he heard the voice of a woman shouting from inside the store…the voice of Lanying. "Just take the ring back, Shen!"

A lump solidified in Shen's throat. "No…spirit, please, let's go. Don't show me this."

The spirit said nothing.

"Lanying, you don't understand!" Shen's own voice shouted from inside. "I will keep my promise, I swear! I _will _marry you!"

"I don't believe that for a minute! You care more about your yuan then you do about me!"

"Spirit, I beg of you," whispered Shen. "Please don't make me watch this."

The spirit still said nothing.

"But we _need_ money to pay for our wedding!" Shen's voice insisted.

"The one that you've put off and put off because it's _not important enough_ for you!"

There was a clank and a clatter, and Shen knew that an engagement ring had just been thrown into a stack of gold coins. He squeezed his eyes shut as they threatened to brim with tears.

The door to the shop opened, and Lanying burst out angrily, hurrying through the streets towards an unknown destination…just as she had on the last night he'd ever seen her, when he'd lost her forever.

"Please, spirit," he begged. "Take me home. I – I can no longer bear these memories."

The spirit pursed her lips. "I can take you home, Shen, but I cannot make the pain go away. Remember, you made these memories yourself."

And without even a word of goodbye, she was gone, and he found himself sitting up in his own bed, in his own time.


	5. The second spirit

**The Song of Winter**

_Part V: The second spirit_

Shen lowered his head into his wings, breathing heavily. "Wh-why was I so foolish?" he asked himself faintly. He might have sat there like that all night, questioning himself and wracking his brain for answers, but his broodings were interrupted not a minute later by heavy footsteps thudding into his room.

He clutched his blankets around his shoulders, wondering if this was the foretold second ghost. If no, this spirit had none of the quiet finesse of the ghost of winter past; it seemed to be lumbering towards him gracefully, and when he caught a glimpse of its silhouette behind the curtains around his bed mat, he saw that its shape was huge and hulking. Even though his first ethereal visitor had done nothing to harm him physically, he couldn't help but withdraw fearfully as the shape reached one massive black hand out and parted the curtains, revealing…

…

_Shen didn't even need to stop and think about this one. "And it was at that moment that he saw that the next spirit was…Po!" he announced dramatically._

_This brought sizable guffaws and scattered applause from everyone listening to him, except for Po himself. "Whaaa?" he whined. "Why do I have to be dead in the story?"_

"_Oh, you're not dead. That's just your night job because I'm paying your father so little," remarked Shen lightly, provoking more laughter._

"_Wait a minute," Lady Biming spoke up. "I think I've heard a version of this story before. Isn't the second ghost supposed to be a giant?"_

_Shen shrugged. "Well, he's a giant panda, so it counts."_

"_Sure it does."_

…

Shen stared up in confusion at the panda standing over him. Yes, said bear was lacking in finesse, but also looked more fat and fuzzy than intimidating. The illusion of mystery was shattered even further when he proclaimed, "Hey, what's up…I mean, greetings, mortal!" He attempted to look thundering and serious, but Shen was not impressed.

"Who are you?" demanded the peacock, arching his eyebrows.

"I am the ghost of winter present – skadoosh!" The spirit wiggled his fingers in the air for emphasis. "And I'm here to show you how your actions affect the here and now!"

"You don't look particularly ghostly," said Shen, unimpressed.

"Yeah, well, if I wasn't a ghost…could I do _this_?" The spirit pointed at the fireplace, and it sprang to life, bathing the room in cheery light. He puffed out his chest. "See? Super cool awesome powers. Now, get your feathered butt out of bed."

Shen heaved a sigh and extricated himself from his sheets, pushing through the curtains as he followed the spirit. When he saw the transformation that had overtaken his bedchamber, he couldn't help but gasp. Every corner of the room was now piled high with all sorts of food. It was real food, too; there was a wide variety of delicious-looking dishes, still steaming slightly, at that perfect temperature where the food would warm you up inside without burning your tongue. It seemed like more than he could possibly eat in a lifetime, although he had to admit that it looked delicious.

"What's all this?" he asked, visibly awestruck.

"Issm foowr awwa harff," mumbled the spirit, cramming something into his mouth.

"What was that?"

The spirit swallowed hard. "It's the food of the heart!" he repeated. "The food of generosity, which you have long denied your fellow man." He looked at Shen hopefully. "Did that sound okay? Cause I was practicing that line all day."

"And what does this food have to do with the present?" questioned Shen.

"Uhhh…" The spirit grappled for a connection. "I like food metaphors."

Shen rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I'm going to show you what will happen tomorrow morning!" The spirit clapped his hands together loudly and exclaimed, "Skadoosh!"

A blinding burst of white light seemed to fly from his hands. Shen winced, squeezing his eyes shut a split second too late. Cool, brisk air tickled at the skin beneath his feathers as he blinked away spots. "Could you give me some warning before you do something like that!"

"Sorry, sorry." The spirit gestured around them. "But hey, look where we are!"

They had been transported to the poorest part of the village, in front of a run-down building that had once been a restaurant. "Spirit, what are we doing in front of this old shack?" demanded Shen.

"This is the home of your overworked, underpaid employee Mr. Ping," explained the spirit. "Go look in the window."

Shen did so, wiping away the condensation fog in order to peer through the glass. Even though on the street it appeared to be night, in the house it was morning already. All of the masters had gathered together inside in order to celebrate the winter feast, along with Mr. Ping and a few unfamiliar children. Their fire kept sputtering from lack of fuel, there weren't any decorations, and it didn't even look like they had very much food to eat. But for some reason, everyone in the run-down house looked extremely cheerful.

"Mr. Ping is hosting the feast?" scoffed Shen. "Why is he doing that if he's so poor?"

"Because he's so generous that he wants to share what he has with everyone during the holiday," said the spirit. "Even if he doesn't have that much to share."

Inside the house, Mr. Ping was placing a skimpy plate of noodles in the center of the table where all of the masters were seated. They all nodded and bowed appreciatively to their host. "Thank you for having us in your home, Mr. Ping," stated Master Tigress.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all!" replied the old goose modestly. "I'm happy to have you!"

"Your noodles look so yummy!" exclaimed a child. "May I have some?"

"You may, in just a moment. We just have to wait for Kurisu to get here…"

"I'm coming, daddy!" called a little girl's voice. Shen's head instinctively swiveled towards the sound, and he saw a small blue kitten with a crutch under her arm limping her way downstairs.

…

"_Oh no you DIDN'T!" shrieked Kurisu, and Shen felt a sharp tug on his whiskers._

"_Ouch!" he snapped, freeing himself and glaring down at the kitten in his lap. "What was that for?"_

"_For making me the damsel in distress who doesn't do anything!" she declared indignantly, crossing her arms._

"_Good gods, would you let me finish, Kurisu? If you would just give me a chance, maybe you'd see that you're more in-character than you think!"_

…

"There you are, Kurisu!" Mr. Ping smiled at her, holding out a chair for his adoptive father and helping her into it when her bad leg proved inadequate to the task. She smiled back up at him sweetly, and then, she began to cough.

Mr. Ping's face immediately became worried. "Oh, Kurisu, sweetheart, take it easy…" He thumped her on the back, his eyebrows creasing in agitation. She managed to repress her last few coughs, looking around with wide, innocent blue eyes.

Shaken, Shen turned to the panda standing behind him. "Spirit, what is wrong with that child?" he asked.

The spirit sighed. "Well, kind of a lot. See, she trains up at the Jade Palace – she wants to become a famous kung fu master and make her family proud. But then she got sick, which took away a lot of her strength. So she broke her leg, and her illness keeps getting worse, because her father doesn't have enough money to pay for a doctor."

Shen peered through the window once again, where he saw Kurisu looking eagerly at her meager portion of noodles, not at all disappointed at the amount of food. "I'm so glad that Mr. Shen let you have the day off, Daddy," she said. Shen felt as if someone had just reached through the glass and punched him in the stomach.

"Wh-what will happen to her?" he asked shakily.

The spirit shrugged. "I'm not sure. After all, I can only see the present. Which reminds me, it's just about time for me to go. I have to leave you with the third and final spirit…the ghost of winter yet to come."

"Yet to come? You mean, the future?" Shen's eyes were still glued to the window, when suddenly the happy family scene on the inside was extinguished like a candle, leaving nothing but a solid wall of blackness. "What? Where did they go?" He turned around sharply on his talons, only to find that he was alone on the street, and that the street itself was rapidly disintegrating into mist. "Spirit…!"


	6. The third spirit and holiday morning

**The Song of Winter**

_Part VI: The third spirit and holiday morning_

Darkness draped over the landscape as if someone had just thrown a veil around the peacock. He spun around, chest heaving, blinking frantically as he tried to figure out where he was. Gradually, the moon peeked out from a bank of clouds, shedding muffled light over his surroundings.

Shen found himself standing in the middle of a cemetery, on a bitterly cold night. Irregular rows of headstones encircled him, so numerous that they made him feel more than a little claustrophobic. As far as he could tell, he was alone out here; there wasn't a single other soul in sight, spirit or otherwise.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over him. He saw the silhouette of a tall cloaked figure projected on a gravestone in front of him. Yet when he turned around, there was no one there.

"H-hello?" he whispered.

The shadow said nothing.

"Are you the spirit of winter yet to come?"

There was a pause. Then the shadow gave what looked like a nod of its head.

Shen exhaled shakily. "Spirit, what's going on? What are we doing in this place?"

The spirit raised its arm, pointing a long, thin finger towards the direction of a hill. Afraid of what he might see up there, Shen turned his head, finding that his breath seemed to be held hostage in his throat.

Several figures seemed to be moving around up there, but it was hard to see them clearly. He moved forward slightly and realized that he was looking at the Furious Five. All of them had bowed their heads in respect before what seemed to be a particularly tiny grave marker. He wasn't sure what was going on until he saw that Mr. Ping was also there…and that the old goose was despondently laying a familiar crutch in front of the grave, in place of the flowers that he probably couldn't afford.

…

"_Aaaaah – OWWWW!" cried Shen as he felt another sharp tug on his whiskers. From his lap, Kurisu was pulling on him as if she thought his head contained a secret trapdoor._

"_You ugly CHICKEN!" she spat. "With your – noodly mustache and your bean bun head!"_

_Xun snickered. "Fond of the food imagery, aren't you?"_

"_Will you stop it, Kurisu! That really hurts!" Shen snapped. "What do you think you're doing that for, anyway?"_

"_For making me die in your story!" she exclaimed indignantly._

"_In case you hadn't figured it out yet, kitten, I didn't make up the plot! It's not my fault that most of the characters are dead!" He rubbed his sore cheek, glowering. "Now, as I was saying…"_

...

"No!" Shen reared back, nearly stumbling down to the frostbitten ground. His throat pulsating, he looked back at the faceless spirit, who still watched over him emotionlessly. "Spirit, I-I never wanted this to happen…"

The spirit said nothing.

Just then, he heard two voices, and turned to see the pig and sheep who had come to his door trying to siphon a donation from him. Both of them were bundled up in heavy coats and carrying shovels as they walked through the graveyard.

"I thought that one would never go," remarked the pig.

"Same here," agreed the sheep. "It's such a relief to be rid of that burden on society…"

Shen was shocked. Facing the spirit once again, he demanded shakily, "Why would they speak that way about Kurisu?"

Instead of responding, the spirit raised its silhouetted hand and gestured at an open grave that the pig and sheep had been walking away from. Shen tentatively inched his way towards it, feeling the spirit's eyeless gaze on his back, gripped by cold adrenaline and a strong sense of unreality. If this was a dream, and he wasn't sure that it was, he prayed that he would wake up now and not have to see anything more. But the world remained intact around him, and he had no other choice than to slowly shuffle up to whatever was awaiting him.

The open grave was unmarked, and it was so deep and dark that he couldn't even see the coffin at its bottom. "Spirit, whose lonely grave is this?" he asked fearfully.

The spirit's shadow receded, and Shen heard soft, scuffling footsteps behind him. He rotated his head towards the sound as if in a trance. He could see that the spirit he had found to be so silent and intimidating wore a long black cloak, as its silhouetted figure had suggested…but it wasn't particularly tall or imposing. In fact, it was unusually small.

Then it reached up and removed its hood, and Shen's eyes widened at the sight of…

…

"…_Master Shifu!" he announced dramatically._

_This reveal got by far the biggest laugh of all. Po chortled loudly, Kurisu couldn't help but giggle, and even Master Tigress had to crack a smile. Master Shifu's ears flattened, but unlike everyone else, he didn't object to Shen's casting._

_The peacock smirked, waiting for the laughter to fade out before he continued. "Yes, he was face-to-face with Master Shifu. He asked once again, 'Spirit, whose lonely grave is this?'…"_

…

And finally, the spirit spoke up. "Whose lonely grave?" he repeated, his voice remaining toneless. "Why, it's yours, Master Shen…the richest man in the cemetery!"

And with that, he gave Shen a shove that had far too much force coming from someone of his size. Shen cried out, barely managing to grip the edge of the grave before he tumbled down into the abyss. As his eyes darted beneath him wildly in fear, he realized that the coffin was now visible…and that it had taken on the form of hell itself. Its lid was wide open, and it was spewing orange flames that licked hungrily at the edges of his talons.

The spirit strode up to him, gripping a wooden staff that seemed to have materialized from nowhere. Without saying a word, he turned the pronged end of the staff downwards and began to pry the struggling Shen away from his handholds.

"No!" Shen scrabbled for purchase and failed to find it. "No! Spirit, please! I'll change!"

He felt himself hurtling down towards the sizzling confines of the fire.

"_I'll change!..._"

His head shot upwards as he sat up in bed. His blankets were tangled around him in irregular knots; the crackling of flames had been replaced with the sound of tolling church bells. Sunlight was streaming through the dusty windows into his bedchamber.

His heart still pounding, he gave himself a quick once-over, noting that he had miraculously avoided being burned to a crisp. "I – I'm alive!" he exclaimed. "And today is the holiday! I still have a chance! Oh, there's no time to waste…"

Shen quickly scrambled out of bed, his body trembling with excitement and relief as he haphazardly changed out of his sleeping robe. He got dressed, slipping a small leather pouch filled with gold coins into his robe, and dashed out into the streets without bothering to grab a bite to eat or pay his usual careful attentions to his appearance.

Outside, the morning air was cold, but it was also crisp and bright and somehow brimming with optimism. The residents of the Valley of Peace were dashing about, picking up the finishing garnishes for their holiday meals, making last-minute arrangements about whose house dinner would be hosted at, and wishing each other a happy feast. Their footsteps made cheerful crunching sounds in the fresh layer of snow that blanketed the village. It wasn't as if Shen had never seen the Valley during the holiday before – after all, he had lived here for much of his life. But for the first time, he wasn't _only_ seeing it. He was also experiencing it, allowing himself to be infected with the prevalent sense of joy that everyone else seemed to feel at this time of year, and understanding what everyone else saw in their celebrations. It was an astounding sensation.

From the street corner, he heard a bell tinkling, and he saw the two collectors who had stopped by his shop yesterday. Both of them were holding out their hats, and the pig was ringing a bell, beckoning to the holiday shoppers to donate their leftover change. Shen hurried up to them, smiling broadly.

"Happy Feast, gentlemen!" he called out as he approached.

They turned to him, startled. "Oh, Master Shen!" stammered the sheep. "It's you!"

"Still collecting for the poor? I'll fix that!" Shen continued airily. They both winced as he reached into his robe, as if expecting that he would withdraw a knife and strike them down. Instead, he removed a handful of coins from his pouch and dumped them into the pig's collecting tin.

Upon hearing the clanking of the money, both collectors opened their eyes and were reasonably stunned by what they saw.

"There you are!" said Shen. "One hundred yuan, no more, no less!" With that, he sauntered down the street with a spring in his step.

"Thank you, sir!" called the collectors, waving to him as he departed.

Shen headed to the marketplace, giving everyone he passed a nod and a smile (and earning more than a few shocked glances in return). On his way there, he happened to spot a familiar green insect hopping through the snow. "Master Mantis!" he called out.

Mantis leapt up on a fence post to avoid being trampled underfoot before he responded, "Master Shen! What is it?"

"Tell the other masters to save a chair for me at the Winter Feast tonight, and to keep the food warm," Shen instructed.

Mantis was so surprised that he nearly toppled from his perch. "You mean you're coming?"

"Of course I'm coming! I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Shen hurried on his way before Mantis had the chance to ask any more questions.

At the marketplace, Shen used the rest of the money in his pouch to purchase an assortment of practical items, such as dinner ingredients, candles, and cutlery, as well as a variety of toys. When all was said and done, his shopping amounted to two hefty bundles. He expertly tied these at their tops in a way that would disguise their contents, before making his way to the former shop and home of his sole employee, Mr. Ping. Keeping a straight face with a bit of difficulty, he knocked on the door.

Mr. Ping had been inside preparing for the holiday dinner. When he answered the door and saw who his visitor was, he let out a honk of surprise. "S-sir!" he gasped. "Um…H-Happy Feast…"

"Happy Feast," responded Shen curtly, keeping his voice gruff in order to disguise the laughter threatening to overtake him. He let his two bundles fall to the ground as if their contents were grim and foreboding. "I have an important assignment for you."

"Assignment? But, sir!" Mr. Ping looked incredibly distressed. "You told me that I could have today off!"

"Have today off? Did I say that?" Shen fixed the old goose with a faux cold stare, not noticing that a familiar blue kitten was slinking down the stairs. "Well then, I repeal that! I'm not giving you a day off! I'm giving you – "

"Toys!" exclaimed a child's voice behind him.

"Wha…?" Shen spun around and saw that Kurisu had pulled open one of his bundles, revealing the brightly colored playthings on the inside. He sighed and allowed himself to crack a smile, now that his cover was blown.

"Toys?" Mr. Ping squinted at the bag suspiciously.

"All right, I suppose the cat's out of the bag," Shen submitted. "Literally. I'm not giving you a day off, Ping…I'm giving you a raise."

"A raise?" The goose clapped both wings against his bill.

"Yes. And making you my new business partner, if you agree." Shen extended his hand. "What do you say?"

"Oh, thank you, sir!" Mr. Ping pumped his employer's wing enthusiastically. "You have no idea how much this means to me! I promise, I won't let you down!"

"I'm sure you won't." Shen reached down and rumpled Kurisu's head fur. The little girl giggled. "Now, I've brought some supplies for the Winter Feast. Would you mind helping me unpack them?"

"Not at all." Mr. Ping was beaming as he performed a slight bow. "Happy Feast, Master Shen!"

Kurisu smiled. "And gods bless us, every one!"

…

"_So all the masters got together and had a wonderful Winter Feast, Mr. Ping had enough money to pay Kurisu's medical bills, and Sheng Li remembered all the help he'd received from the spirits and was never greedy or stingy again," completed Shen. "The end."_

_He stood up on the table and bowed as his audience applauded the conclusion to his tale. "Not bad," Xun called. "Even if it wasn't accurate at all."_

"_And even if I had to be dead," added Po._

"_And even if I was a wimpy little damsel in distress," added Kurisu._

_Shen rolled his eyes. "Will you all come off of it? As I said before, it's not supposed to be a true story." He cleared her throat. "There is one true part of it, though."_

"_The part where you reformed?" asked the soothsayer with a smile._

"_Yes. And the part where I became grateful for what I had." Shen looked around at his makeshift family. "When I look back at the past few years, I can't believe how far I've come. And it's all because of you…each and every one of you. Everyone here did something to help me at some point, whether I deserved it or not. I hope I haven't disappointed you…"_

"_Hey, you took me in off the streets when I was starving!" exclaimed Xun. "I probably would have died if you hadn't found me!"_

"_And if it wasn't for you, I never would have been the Dragon Warrior!" Po pointed out. "And you helped me find my mom again anyway, so that makes us kind of even."_

"_And I would have been struggling to find my way back in Gongmen City if we'd never met," supplied Lanying. "You're the one who gave me a chance to be successful…"_

_Shen smiled. "You don't know how happy it makes me to hear that. And I'll always be here if anyone needs me." He looked down pointedly at Kurisu as he said this. "No matter how big our family may get."_

_Kurisu rolled her eyes, but wrapped her arms around his waist. "Happy Feast, you ugly chicken," she said with a smirk._

"_Happy Feast, to everyone." Shen crossed his arms and looked out over the Jade Palace, satisfied. Maybe he couldn't repay everything he owed to everyone he owed it to, but he was trying, and just putting in that hard work made him feel better. He picked up a glass from the table and raised it into the air. "Let's have a toast to a prosperous year ahead of us."_

_And as everyone raised a glass and repeated his toast, he reflected that maybe his story hadn't been so fictitious…after all, he'd still gotten his happy ending._

THE END

* * *

_A/N - All right, DONE. There, that was a nice little Christmas/holiday story, wasn't it? It was my Christmas present to the Internet, and if you would like to give me a present in return, then REVIEW._

_"A Great Escape" will resume after the holiday!_


End file.
